In The Stillness
by maki0202
Summary: Hurt/Comfort scenes after Ressler gets shot, and following consequences. Loosely follows the progression of show episodes. Ch. 1 and 2 contain mild discrepancies (wrote before watching Anslo Garrick eps.) Liz/Ressler
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: A one shot? Just a little drabble of bits picked up from next ep's promo (dang NBC, why you gotta preempt? For the Voice clip show? Stupid reality crap, who are the millions of people watching this? Geesh…)

In the Stillness

"I'm going with him."

That wasn't a request. I'm not waiting for permission, nor do I need it.

Liz Keen climbed onto the ambulance, and only until the door was swiftly shut that she made a firm eye contact with Cooper. He gave a slight nod, and that was all she needed to see.

"He's lost a lot of blood. His blood pressure is falling fast. We've got to intubate."

Liz sat back slightly to give the paramedic some space, but did not dare take her hand out of his. Ressler had passed out over an hour ago from the gunshot wound to his abdomen, his clothes damp in blood. Liz clutched his calloused hand while putting her other hand on his head, gently caressing his sweat-soaked hair. She placed her forehead upon his, and whispered into his ear, "It's going to be alright. Just hold on, damn it. Stay with me."

The paramedic connected the IV, and after a quick glance at the heart monitor, gave Liz a look that spoke of grave conclusion. Damn you. Don't you dare look at me like that. He's going to make it.

Liz returned her attention to Ressler, continuing to whisper, "It's going to be alright. Just hold on."

. . . . .

After what felt like the most agonizing minutes, the ambulance pulled up to the hospital curb, greeted by a team of nurses and doctors. Liz's cell phone went off, which she ignored. As Ressler was laid on the stretcher, Liz's hand reluctantly let go of his limp hand. In amidst of the paramedics barking information, Liz screamed, "Please, you've got to work quickly."

The last of what she saw was his disturbingly still body, his face ashen and pale, his blond hair swaying lifelessly. She looked down upon her hands, and they were soaked in his blood.

. . . . .

Liz sat in the waiting room, absolutely still. Her body felt tense and detached from her beating heart; none of the surroundings registered to her, not the sounds, people, even that dreadful air. Her mind played over and over again the scene she encountered, when she walked into the cell with Red, seeing Ressler passed out, covered in blood. As try as she might, she could not shake off the image. Ressler looking helpless. Ressler in suffering. Ressler dying.

She felt paralyzed and tormented by the thought of Ressler dying. He can't. I can't lose him. I can't bear it. Liz was taken back to the time Ressler comforted her after Kornish kidnapped her. How he held her tightly, whispering softly into her ear, not letting go until she let go. He felt so warm, so safe, protected. He stood firmly as she fell into him, allowing him to be her strength and anchor while she let go of all things, and unguardedly released all her fears. Her tears flowed, but Ressler did not deem it a weakness. Instead he clutched her ever so tightly, drawing circles with his thumb, whispering "It's over now. You're safe."

Liz was awoken with the sound of her cell phone ringing. Tom. Damn it. He's called before.

"Tom."

"Lizzie, where are you? I called you hours ago."

"I know, and I'm so sorry. I'm alright, don't worry about me. I'm still stuck at work."

"It's almost midnight."

"I know. But I can't leave."

"Lizzie, I want you to come home."

"Tom, I just can't. You've gotta trust me."

And with that, Tom hung up.

Cooper also called several times, demanding to know the progress of the surgery. Liz could not give him any specifics, but assured him that she'll be there when Ressler is out of the surgery.

. . . . .

Liz fought back the fatigue that seemed to invade deep, even to her bones, while her eyes were blood shot from staring at the door of the surgery room. She had begun to memorize every crevice of that door when it finally swung open, producing a tall doctor in scrubs. Liz got up quickly to speak to him, learning that Ressler is out of surgery, and that the surgery went well without complications. They were able to remove the bullet and repair all the vital organs. His blood pressure was back to normal, and his recovery will take about a week. The mounting wall of fear and anxiety finally subsided, and she felt tears form out of relief. "Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much."

"You can go see him, if you like. He's still a bit under, so he probably can't speak yet. But he can hear you."

. . . . .

Liz opened the door carefully and quietly. Everything was very still at the recovery room. The nurse by his side smiled at her, and left without a sound. Liz surveyed the surroundings, all the machines, blinking and beeping, a tall IV stand, coils of tubes, and a small lamp on the night stand. The small light illuminated Ressler's face, now in more fleshy tone. Liz sighed in relief.

She walked over to Ressler, looking intently into his face. His eyes were closed, but she can hear his breathing. She delicately placed her hand on his arm, feeling its warmth. Liz closed her eyes in release of all the tension and anxiety. Her hand caressed down to his hand, lightly linking with his fingers. Calloused fingers. All those times he pulled out his gun out of the holster, with that scowl on his face, barking orders at everyone. She shook her head slightly, and smiled in amusement. It was then that Ressler's fingers moved in her grasp. Liz looked up to see Ressler's blue eyes. There was a film of grogginess, but the gaze was on Liz and she knew that typical Ressler focus was intact.

"Don't try to talk, you're still under the anesthesia." She said softly, her hand now gently on his face. Ressler continued his gaze upon Liz.

"You were shot in the abdomen, and you lost a lot of blood. But the surgery went well, and you should be back to normal in about a week."

"And just to let you know, it was Reddington who actually saved your life." At that, Ressler tried to speak, but Liz shushed him playfully. "You're indebted to him. I'll remind you of this as often as necessary." Liz let out a chuckle, and saw that Ressler was none too pleased.

"I'm just glad you're alright. Just rest now." Liz assured him as she caressed his hand. Ressler's eyes closed slowly, and his breathing soon became regulated, in deep sleep. "I'll be here when you wake up." She whispered into the stillness of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Can you believe the episode 9? Gahhh, that was INTENSE. Poor Ress, glad he passed out when he did. I was thinking Red can knock him out before cauterizing, but that would've robbed Diego of some serious acting opportunities. And when he shed those tears after Red's monologue, what a beautiful juxtaposition. Kudos to all the actors!

And, yeah, the wound was to the thigh, not the abdomen which I had first thought.

In the Stillness

Chapter 2

It was becoming harder and harder to distinguish between what was real and what was a dream, between what was living and what was dead. These two worlds collided and vacillated within the realm of unimaginable pain and utter numbness, rendering every sense either real or unreal. Donald Ressler felt like his body had been entrenched in a battle, pummeled and ripped to pieces, thrown against the rocks and trampled with no mercy. This body no longer belonged to him, but to the higher being, of nobler existence, and there was absolutely nothing he can do to reclaim it. It was in this stark loneliness and helplessness that he fought, with all his might and will, to plead the function of one thing: his eyes.

Donald's eyes fluttered open, and he was immediately thrown into a blazing headache. Everything seemed to be spinning, every sound magnified, and even the motion of his eyes caused a distinct pain. Donald studied the surroundings, breathed in the air, and clenched his fingers to confirm that indeed, he was in the land of the living. It registered to him that he was in a hospital room, with light blue walls and white curtains. There were constant beeping and blinking of machines, and tubes of unknown number connected to god-knows-where in his body. He looked down and saw that his left upper thigh was heavily bandaged, and he moved his toes to confirm its function.

He laid back onto the pillow and focused on the ceiling, trying his best to recollect whatever he could, but everything came slowly to him. It was maddening that his usually sharp mind was in such a muddle, and the fear started to settle in that perhaps he will never be the same. Perhaps his mind will never be the same. Donald remembered only bits and pieces, of being shot in the leg, lying on the cold metal bed, and Reddington. Everything else was just a massive coalition of fuzzy shapes and sounds. Donald couldn't remember how the ordeal had ended, and how he ended up here. Where was Reddington? Are Cooper and Malik safe? And Keen, what has happened to her?

It was then that he detected a small stirring at the corner of his eye. Donald turned slowly and found the culprit; Elizabeth Keen was sound asleep on a blue sofa at the corner of the room. She had the hospital-issue blanket on her, and she shifted once more to better conform her body onto the chair. In the soft dimness of the room, Donald stared at her face and its delicate features, at first unsure of why she was here in the first place. He observed blood stains on the collar of her blouse, perhaps she was hurt as well. Or perhaps it was his blood.

His eyes travelled back to her face. Donald felt almost shy and intrusive, but could not resist this moment of furtive study. He felt like a silly school boy stealing a look, but in the stillness of the room, with the rest of the world quietly tucked away somewhere, Donald found indescribable solace and comfort in gazing at the face of Elizabeth Keen. It was something incomprehensible, even to him, how her sleeping figure made him feel so safe and undamaged. His eyes took in her pale complexion, her rosy lips, the soft contours of her cheeks, and the gentle slope of her neck. Donald wished she would open her eyes, if only to gaze deep into her beautiful teal blue eyes, the eyes that made him question himself on countless times.

Donald remembered the first time he met Elizabeth Keen, under those absolutely extraordinary and mysterious circumstances. He did not trust her; he may have hated her even. There had to be a connection, however unknown and hidden, between Reddington and Keen, and they were operating right under his nose. It was his utmost task to keep a close watch over her, and uproot whatever deceit and ravage they were planning, together. Together. Donald was convinced that Agent Keen was a criminal herself.

Then, somehow, in time, his stance of her changed. Donald couldn't believe it; his gut instincts, his intuition, and his beliefs have rarely been wrong. He's always trusted his steel-like senses and unwavering dispositions; they've been his source of survival as long as he could remember. But not this time. He's watched and studied her with eyes that searched for lies, but she has countlessly proven herself to be an agent who was looking for truth herself. Donald has seen her plunge into danger to save lives, vulnerable and tough, never compromising the good, and always resolute in honor. He realized that, in fact, they were the same. They were the same, as one, searching for the truth.

But more than that, as Donald felt a prick in his heart. When she collapsed and fell into his arms after the kidnapping ordeal, it stirred in him emotions that he couldn't fully understand. He wanted to protect her, and he had no doubt that he'd do anything to ensure that she's safe. If she allowed it, he'd have held her as long as he can, if somehow he can take away all the fears and despair. Lying on the hospital bed with wounds deep and raw, as Donald felt vulnerable and weak, it came surprisingly easier to confront these emotions. These emotions that he wouldn't dare bring to surface.

"Hi", a soft voice. Keen is awake.

"Hi." His own voice sounded foreign to him, it was a bit too gruff. Donald felt his throat dry and hoarse.

Elizabeth walked over to him to his bedside. Her teal blue eyes were looking intently at him, studying his complexion. She grabbed his hand gently to gauge his temperature. "How are you feeling?"

"Not bad." A poor attempt at a chuckle. Her hand in his hand felt warm. And nice.

Elizabeth held a glass of water in front of him, and held his head to support while he drank. Donald felt like he hasn't had liquid in his mouth for ages.

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"Not much. I got shot." Elizabeth let out a small chuckle. She let go of his hand, and he immediately missed it.

"Yes, you were shot, in the leg. Reddington cauterized it in time."

"He saved my life, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did."

The two remained silent for a moment, each lost in thought, trying to figure out the implications of these events.

"I don't understand why he did what he did." Donald broke the silence.

"What happened in there?" Elizabeth inquired.

Donald's memories came easier for him now, and he could recollect their conversations, how Reddington knew about Audrey, the bungled attempt at Amsterdam, and how Reddington essentially saved his mind from going insane. This was all too raw to speak of at this moment.

"I can't remember". This was all he can offer.

"Where is Red?"

"He is fine, he's safe."

"And Cooper? The headquarters?"

"Cooper is alive and well. They're picking up the pieces, as we speak."

"Anslo?"

Elizabeth hesitated a moment. "He got away."

Donald winced. His mind started racing, of what needs to get started and what needs to get done.

"Calm down, you're not leaving the hospital for at least a week." Elizabeth had read his mind.

Just as Donald was about to protest, a doctor walked into the room and essentially ordered Elizabeth to leave the room so that Donald can be examined.

"Be careful with that one, doctor. Keep an eye on him, he might sneak out." Elizabeth teased playfully before disappearing behind the door.

As Donald watched her leave, he knew he had already missed her.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Just to let you know, I wrote chapters 1 and 2 before watching the actual episodes. So, yeah, Ressler's wound is on the leg (not abdomen) and Anslo Garrick is dead (not alive, as I thought). Took the mental note…I'm definitely watching the episodes before writing.

In the Stillness

Chapter 3

"This is ridiculous, you don't have to do this."

Ressler spoke with gruff irritation and turned around to face her. "I don't know why you insist on this."

Liz simply rolled her eyes and remained silent as she pushed Ressler on the wheelchair, going up the ramp to his condo. Ressler had been at the hospital for two weeks now, and today was his first day back home. His upper left leg was heavily bandaged, now safely perched on the leg rest attached to the wheelchair.

"I don't need this damn wheelchair, I'm not a cripple. I could walk with crutches."

"Ressler, stop acting like a child, we're almost there." Liz finally snapped with a bit of irritation; it wasn't exactly an easy task from her end. But she had to admit that Ressler was right. The doctors looked at her quizzically when she pulled out her FBI badge to request the use of the wheelchair out of the hospital grounds. She had fibbed that it was for official bureau purposes.

"Here we are. Home, sweet home." Liz opened the door to his condo, exclaiming with saccharine fanfare as if Ressler was now entering his king's lair. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I don't know who you are anymore", he muttered.

Liz held Ressler gently around his chest as he maneuvered off the wheelchair and hobbled onto the sofa in the living room. She then proceeded to station the wheelchair by the front door, and retrieved his crutches and a small bag of clothes from her car. When she came back to his condo, she found him in the same position as she left him. For a moment, she felt as though this exhausted and helpless Ressler appeared quite charming and endearing. He finally looked like a human being, and not a robot.

"There should be some beer in the fridge." Ressler pointed towards the hallway.

Liz walked gingerly down the hallway of the condo, and spotted the kitchen right away. The condo was not big, but was considerably sparse and bare, just as Liz had expected of Ressler's living space. The walls were all grey, with dark grey curtains that draped over few large windows. The shades of grey reminded Liz of many of Ressler's stodgy grey suits, with sharp lines and austere cut. The conservative and no fuss grey suited the man and his surroundings. "Spot on, and predictable," Liz muttered to herself.

Liz walked into the small kitchen, and noted that there was nothing living about this space. It was surprisingly clean for a bachelor's abode, but it also looked sterile and barren, as if it was hardly occupied. The kitchen was certainly not the heart of this home. She opened the refrigerator, and found it empty except for few take-out boxes and a case of beer. "Spot on, and predictable," Liz muttered in amusement as she grabbed two cans of beer and headed back down the hallway.

Liz took few steps on the dark mahogany floor until she noticed the door to her right was Ressler's bedroom. The door was wide open, and in plain view was his bed against the far wall and a large dresser on the left. The room looked fairly large for its size, and she was pleasantly surprised at how relatively clean and well-kept it was. "No dirty socks or boxers on the floor," she mused, "I have no idea who you are, Donald Ressler." At that moment, she caught a faint aroma of his aftershave wafting in the air. She breathed it in, her senses becoming fully aroused by its musky, male scent. She turned away from the bedroom, feeling suddenly intrusive, and started her way back to the living room, but not before taking a quick peek at his large bed with clean white sheets.

"Here you are." Liz handed Ressler a cold beer.

"Oh, thank God. I needed this." He grabbed it and took a long swig.

Liz sat on a small leather chair adjacent to Ressler, who was comfortably situated on matching brown leather couch. The two silently took healthy gulps of the cold beer, enjoying the drink and the serenity of the surroundings. Liz looked around the living room space, bare and perfunctory, as expected. A couch, a lonely chair, a small table with a laptop, and a tiny T.V. occupied the rectangular living room. The grey pervaded here as well. Liz decided there was nothing homey about this place.

"You should get a dog," Liz quipped, with an exaggerated diabolical squint of the eye.

Ressler gave her a quick look and raised his eye brow.

"Or at least a rug. Or a plant." Liz was now poking fun at him. Ressler gave a small chuckle, as if to acknowledge her sentiment that his condo may not be the most cheerful place in the world.

"I'm just glad to be out of the damn hospital." Ressler grumbled before taking another gulp of the beer.

"You're not out of the woods yet. You're gonna have to use the crutches for at least a month."

"Damn." Ressler was done with his beer, and he looked like he could use another.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and just as Liz decided to get another beer for Ressler, he spoke deliberately. "Audrey came to visit me at the hospital."

These words jolted her, and she looked at him in piqued curiosity. Liz had heard about his ex-fiance and was quite taken aback that she had reappeared in his life. "When?"

"After the surgery. The bureau contacted her because she's still on my file as next of kin." Ressler stated as a matter of fact. "I really should take her name off of that."

"She's engaged, you know." He spoke after a moment, with a blank expression.

Perhaps it was the injury, and the helplessness and the easy vulnerability that comes with it. Or perhaps it was the beer. Whatever it was, the usual and the typical taciturn Ressler seemed uncharacteristically open and unbarred. Yet she was at loss for words. She didn't know how much she could push him, how much he would allow her to probe and press before he recoils. "I guess she's moved on."

"I guess so." Ressler shrugged his shoulders, his clear blue eyes gazing onto the unknown distance.

At this point, Liz felt like raiding Ressler's liquor cabinet and taking out some whiskey. Ressler looked like he'd have some whiskey stashed somewhere. "So, what did she say?"

"Nothing much. I mean, I didn't ask her about her…fiancé. I didn't want to pry. And I don't care to know about it…I mean, him." Ressler turned his gaze onto Liz, and two sat looking at each other for a moment, in the stillness of the company.

There was so much that Liz wanted to know about Audrey, who she is and what had happened in their relationship. But more so, she wanted to know more about Ressler. She wanted to know what was behind those clear glassy blue eyes, what thoughts occupied his mind, and what was stirring in his heart. It almost felt like a need, as if Liz needed to know whether Audrey still had a place in his heart.

"I'm actually pretty impressed that you're not grilling me about this. Not that interesting, huh?" Ressler chuckled softly, putting down his empty beer can on the table. "I could use another one of these."

"I'll get it." Jolted out of her thoughts, Liz got up quickly and walked briskly towards the kitchen down the hallway. The brief walk brought a slap of reality, much like the proverbial splash of cold water to the face. "What was I thinking?" she scolded herself, "What does it matter who's in Ressler's heart? Why am I even thinking about this?" Even now, perhaps from sheer embarrassment at her own thoughts, she felt her body heated from somewhere deep within, and knew that her cheeks were blushing redder than a rose. She held the cold cans of beer from the fridge, and pressed them against her flush cheeks.

"Here you go." Liz handed Ressler a can of beer, avoiding his eyes as she was afraid her thoughts would somehow become transparent and palpable. He opened the can immediately and took a long swig.

"I guess I didn't know how I felt about it until I saw her." Ressler spoke, seemingly becoming more at ease after each drink. Liz herself felt less inhibited after the second can of beer.

"Felt about what?"

Ressler took the last gulp of the beer, and hesitated a moment before speaking. "When she walked out on me, I knew it was over. I mean, there was nothing I could do. But I guess, over the years, I was hoping it wasn't over after all. There was a part of me that hoped that I'll see her again, and then things would change."

Ressler seemed to be lost in his thoughts, then he shook his head with a short laugh. "I'm a simple man, but I hate to say this, this was complicated. Damn, I hate that word."

"Donald Ressler, the emotionally complicated. I'll spread the word." Liz couldn't help but to quip, and the two shared an easy laughter. Yes, it must be the alcohol in their system. Liz somehow felt incredibly daring and free to probe, while Donald appeared open and expressive, as if he'll give whatever she asked for. "So, you're still in love with her."

"I thought I did. It was something I didn't think I was over with. Until I saw her at the hospital. When I first saw her, I knew it was over."

"What do you mean?"

"When she walked into the hospital room, when I saw her, I just knew I didn't love her anymore. How I've felt all this time, it became clear when I actually saw her. What I felt for her at that moment, wasn't love."

"How do you think she feels about you?"

"Well, obviously she's moved on. She's engaged, and I'm happy for her, I really am. We care for each other, but both of us have moved on. She's moved on, and I have moved on."

After a brief break, Ressler continued. "I think now we are friends, as strange and odd as that sounds. She knows me better than anybody, and I feel comfortable with her, and I could talk to her like she is a good friend. Her visit was nice, it was good to see a familiar face. We talked about the old times, shared some laughs. She's engaged, and I wish her the best of luck."

The room became hushed as both sat in silence, each lingering in their own thoughts. With the inhibition cloudy, Liz felt quite audacious in facing her own feelings, yet she wouldn't dare allow herself to feel relieved to hear that Ressler's heart was unattached. She knew she had no right to feel this way; how her partner Donald Ressler felt in his heart was absolutely none of her business, and it had nothing to do with her. Their relationship was strictly professional. And she was a married woman, a happily married woman at that.

"I'm not the person you think I am." Ressler broke in, with an easy grin.

"And I think of you as..."

"Some meat head, maybe, a one-dimensional robot man. Just so you know, I'm capable of feeling and caring. I'm capable of loving." Ressler muttered softly, meeting Liz's gaze. His blue eyes, with slight lace of uncertainty and timidity, seemed to probe into hers, as if he needed to see her approve of him. It has never occurred to her, until now, that Ressler had cared rather deeply about how she felt towards him, and what she saw in his character and reputation. Liz felt quite taken aback by this awareness.

"I think it's time I get some sleep. I'm exhausted." Ressler attempted to get up from the couch, but Liz quickly held onto his chest, and with his arm around her shoulders, guided him towards his bedroom.

"God, I hate being a cripple."

"You're not a cripple."

Donald climbed onto his bed as Liz lifted his left leg in between the white sheets. Liz detected a faint aroma of his aftershave again, and for an unknown reason, wished to stay with him for a little bit longer. She looked over Donald, now tucked in like a little boy who came home from school with the flu.

"I'll check in on you later."

"No, really, you don't have to. You've done enough for me already."

"I'll bring some dinner. And more beer. And no more words from you."

Liz made her way back to the living room and picked up the empty beer cans, which she disposed of in the kitchen. As she walked back down the hallway, she peeked into Donald's bedroom, and watched him sleep for a moment before leaving his condo.


	4. Chapter 4

In the Stillness

Chapter 4

"Welcome back, Agent Ressler."

"Thank you, sir."

Assistant Director Harold Cooper and Agent Donald Ressler shook hands quickly before each took his respective seats, Cooper behind his desk and Ressler on a chair facing the other. Cooper folded his hands and placed them on a sheet of document on the desk, just as he exhaled with grim lines etched on his forehead. The pleasantries of their greeting hardly conveyed the stifling air of the room, each man displaying grave solemnity and mental gravity. Cooper attempted to let out a faint smile, but he was not the man to exhibit sentiments without intent.

"It's been three months. Your doctors reported that you are healing quite well."

"Yes, sir. I should be able to walk without the cane in few weeks."

"Good." Cooper paused a moment, taking a full look at the document placed on his desk.

"Agent Ressler, I realize this is your first day back, but there is…a bureau matter I must address with you."

"I'm aware of that, sir." Ressler spoke with hardly a flicker of change in his expression or demeanor, as if he was in full expectation of this conversation. Cooper looked at Ressler with a slight nod of surprise, but quickly realized that Ressler, in his typical fashion, was fully aware of all of his actions and implications of those actions if need be. Sometimes it was difficult to tell who was a step ahead of whom.

"Of course. I wanted to inform you that I filed the discipline review."

"Yes, sir." Ressler responded quickly but courteously. He wasn't going to make this easy for Cooper.

Cooper paused, perhaps collecting his thoughts on how best to verbalize this situation. Ressler was one of his best agents, and with great respect Cooper recognized that pulling rank was not the most effective way to get things done. However, Ressler did not like that Cooper was being so tentative; he'd have preferred to have it all out at once.

"You disobeyed my direct orders." Cooper finally spoke, firmly and resolutely. His eyes were squarely on Ressler.

"Yes, sir."

Cooper looked as if he expected more, perhaps an explanation, or even a slight display of vindication. But Ressler wasn't going to give any of it, and Cooper should've known better.

"Do you have anything to say about this matter?"

Ressler paused, perhaps to give respect to Cooper's inquiry. However, after a moment, his reply was resolute.

"No, sir."

Cooper, although a bit perplexed, did not let Ressler off that easily. "Do you understand the implication of your actions? Reddington is missing, and the bureau recognizes it as a direct result of your actions."

"I understand, sir."

Cooper leaned back onto his chair, now attempting a smile, or at least a more relaxed, intimate approach. Cooper admittedly admired Ressler's confidence and brash attitude; however, it could also be his greatest downfall. "Agent Ressler, you are one of my best agents, and I want to see how I can be of assistance, if you will. Now understand that I was within protocol to file that review, but it is within my purview and authority to oversee the review. Do you understand, Agent Ressler?"

"Yes, sir. I understand." Ressler understood that Cooper was throwing him a bone, but it wasn't going to be easy.

"Good. In fact, I have the review document right here." Cooper's downward gaze signaled the lone paper on his desk, and he made it clear that the fate of that document lied solely on Ressler.

"Now, I need to understand some things, Agent Ressler. Let's start with the big one, shall we? Why did you give up the code?" The question hung in the air silently, and all things hushed in that tiny office. Cooper's meek smile has now been swiftly replaced with dire gravity, and Ressler returned the gaze with the invitation to soundless battle.

"Reddington had a gun on my head, sir." This was all that Ressler could offer, the words he viewed as most safe from scrutiny and unbelief. Everything else he was feeling at the moment, all the other words his heart could've said instead, would never be uttered in the conversation between these two men, under any circumstances. Ressler did not flinch in this knowledge, as if he was already accustomed to hiding some things deep within.

Cooper let out a faint chuckle, along with a sly grin. "Reddington. Do you really believe that he would've shot you?"

Ressler's eyes squinted ever so faintly, as to signal a touched nerve. This did not go unnoticed, and Cooper found satisfaction in seeing that, although slight, Ressler was finally beginning to break.

"I don't believe it myself." Cooper offered, with the knowing grin intact. "So let me ask you again, Agent Ressler, why did you give up the code?"

After a pause, Ressler relented but within careful confines. "Agent Keen's life was in danger, sir."

"Everyone's lives were in danger, Agent Ressler. I believe mine was at the top of that list." Cooper's comments took on a flavor of jest, yet his sudden grim expression spoke otherwise. "Agent Ressler, your actions were against direct orders of your superior, which under dire circumstances, may have resulted in endangerment of everyone at the site, including your own life. To say that it was reckless would be a grave underestimation. Your actions on that day go against every principle and discipline of this institution." Cooper paused briefly, as if to collect his own emotions.

"Now, do you have anything to add?"

. . . . .

Ressler clutched onto the cane and shifted his balance to the right, muttering some choice swear words as he walked out of Cooper's office. He hadn't gotten used to the cane yet, and every step was becoming a burden, a battle of will and control. He still remembered himself as the first pick of the academy, the most agile of them all, outrunning and outcunning just about every cadet. And now, he was angry even at the thought, that if someone were to kick the cane off his hand, he would fall flat on his face, helplessly.

Ressler limped along the hallway to his office when he spotted Agent Keen making her way in his direction. Yes, it was definitely towards him as she smiled broadly, that warm, inviting, and unassuming smile of hers. He didn't feel like acknowledging her, and he continued his way down the hallway, his eyes focused upon ahead. Agent Keen, however, caught up to him rather quickly.

"Heard you were here, welcome back. How is it with the cane?" Elizabeth looked as if she was inspecting the cane and the movement of his left leg.

"Thanks. It's fine." Ressler replied succinctly, but regretted that his tone was curt.

"Malik told me Cooper called you into his office. Is everything alright?" Elizabeth stepped a bit towards him, as if to stop him from walking. She wanted his full attention.

Ressler obliged and stopped walking, and turned his body towards her, his eyes directly into hers. "Keen, you will be partnering with Malik until further notice."

"What do you mean?" There was a glimmer of disappointment and confusion on her face, and her brows knotted delicately at its corners.

"I've been relegated to desk duty, effective as of now." Ressler exhaled deeply, and turned his face toward the hallway, as if to signal his desire to proceed walking again. But Elizabeth was not done with him.

"Are you under review?" She stepped in front of him and persisted.

"No." Ressler turned his sharp eyes unto her.

"If you are under review, for what reason? What actions?" Elizabeth had her own ideas about this matter. Ressler looked at her, now feeling incredulous, as to how could she not know. How could she not remember what he's done? What he's done for her?

"Keen, I'm not under review. Cooper is putting me on desk duty." Then he stepped around her and resumed walking down the hallway, and this time, Elizabeth did not stop him. As he limped along, he felt her presence standing where he left her, with eyes fully searing at the back of his head.

. . . . .

Ressler slumped onto his chair and sighed deeply, welcoming the relief of his body at rest. His leg was starting to bother him now, and he pondered perhaps this desk duty was a bit of a good timing. Cooper would agree, as well. Ressler still couldn't understand how he got to avoid that discipline review, seeing that Cooper was none too pleased with anything he's said. In fact, Ressler felt himself quite brazen during several exchanges, and had he been his superior, he would've slapped himself with additional infractions.

But unexpectedly, Cooper ripped up the review document, and ordered him desk duty until further notice. Ressler looked at him for a moment, in unbelief, but it was as if Cooper understood some things that were not spoken, some things that Ressler refused to speak of, but somehow Cooper had managed to detect. At that moment, Ressler felt panic settle in, that perhaps he showed too much, that his own face may have betrayed him. Then Cooper excused him, and turned his attention onto his laptop as if nothing had happened and business was as usual.

"I'm over thinking it," Ressler mused. But one thing he was sure of, was that this job, this bureau, was a place of business. And he cannot let anything get in the way of doing what he's been trained to do, to protect people, to honor the code of conduct, and to uphold the law. This job was the only real and valuable thing in his life, and he vowed never to jeopardize it with anything. Ressler vowed that he must hold highest standards for himself, and never let anything get in the way of his judgment and commitment.

And if that includes people, so be it. Ressler sat motionless in thought, and knew that he could no longer hide a certain truth from himself. As much as he resisted this fight, Ressler knew that he needed to bring this truth to light. Elizabeth Keen. What must he do with Elizabeth Keen?

If she was a part of a mathematical equation, all he had to do was subtract her out of his mind. She was his partner, a work partner. Nothing more, nothing less. What he's been doing with her did not make sense in this equation, and Ressler saw it as a grave mistake on his part. What he was feeling was utterly erroneous, utterly foolish, and utterly self-destructive. It was more than the fact that she was married, happily married. It was that Ressler let down his guard, let emotions seep in, and cloud his judgment. And this thought absolutely terrified him. His mind and his judgment was the only shield he had that separated him from life to death. Ressler cannot and must not allow his mind to be compromised, under any circumstances.

But a lofty vision was never too far. In the stillness of his rest, Ressler was confronted with the enduring truth, that his clear mind was the only thing that can protect her. His clear mind was the only weapon he had that can save her.

. . . . .

A/N: I know this chapter was a bit of a downer, but I spent about a week or so really debating and reflecting upon the true characterization of Ressler. We've only seen 10 episodes, and that's not much at all to get into his head. But some things are very clear about him. At the core, he is a good guy. He is noble, uncompromising, and will always gravitate to what is right.

I know there are a lot of differing opinions about his character, but IN MY OPINION, there is absolutely no way that Ressler will ever engage in an affair with Keen while she's married. He will not play with that fire. Yes, he is human, who has feelings, emotions, etc. But to me, it would be so grossly out of character if he was to ever consider that route, or even place himself in that compromised situation. Personally, of course, I want to see Keensler happen! But as a writer of borrowed characters, I must respect the authenticity of the characters, even if I want to take them to a place I want them to go.

For sure, it's pretty evident that Ressler cares deeply for our dear Lizzie, but he himself doesn't know just how deep that is. So this is my take, hope you've enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Thanks for listening to my rant! And I welcome your differing opinions!


	5. Chapter 5

In the Stillness

Chapter 5

"How's the leg these days?

"It's fine. It's getting better."

Ressler replied quickly, and gave a swift glance at Liz before settling his attention back on to the double doors of a dilapidated building half way down the block. The lone street light dimly flickered, casting a dreary shadow onto the empty alleyway, with nothing stirring in sight. Liz looked at her watch and read 1:25 A.M. The night was blistery frigid, and even though encased in the safety of Ressler's car, Liz felt absolutely miserable and wished this night of surveillance would end soon. She took another sip of her coffee, which had already begun to get cold. It didn't help that she was thoroughly exhausted.

"Ressler, anything yet?" Agent Malik's voice was heard crackling through the walkie. She was situated at the other end of the street, covering the east side of the surveillance parameters.

"Nothing yet." Ressler responded with a low grunt. Liz caught the frustrated grimace on his face, and he sounded annoyed as hell. The suspect, a notorious hit man, was supposed to show up four hours ago, and they've been sitting since then, patiently waiting with no new leads.

"I wanted to put this away tonight, and close the case." Ressler muttered gruffly, roughly combing through his blond hair with his hand. "So far, nothing has gone as planned. Jesus."

Liz turned towards Ressler but remained silent. She felt as frustrated and exhausted as he was, and she had absolutely no words to alleviate this situation. She was just relieved that at least they were talking. The first three hours of the surveillance was spent mostly in silence, each sipping their coffee and awkwardly attempting to carry on a conversation about current cases. Each time Liz brought up anything remotely personal, she couldn't help but to notice that Ressler would respond in a muffled grunt, as if he wanted none of it.

For the past few weeks, Liz found her partner's demeanor quite temperamental and mystifying. Certainly this was not the same person she had interacted with at the hospital. Perhaps it was the vulnerability of the injury, but he had been softer and more open with her. It was actually quite nice. Liz hadn't seen this side of Ressler, the way he was silly, daring, and sensitive even. For the first time, she felt all the pretense just slid away, and they were real and present with each other, with nothing to hide and allowing the other to peek through the shell.

But since his return to the bureau, Ressler was back to his machinery temperament, eschewing any remarks remotely personal and seemingly dismissing Liz herself. He seldom made eye contact with her, and his minimal conversations were strictly bureau business. Although Liz felt that he no longer accused her of being an accessory to Red's crimes, Ressler had nonetheless returned to the curt and dismissive posture. At times it looked as though he purposely kept distance from her. Liz sighed, realizing that it's a bit like taking a step forward and two steps back with this guy. Perhaps she should've known better, and stop trying to figure him out.

"Have you heard from Reddington? Anything at all?" Ressler broke through her thoughts, and Liz decided to ignore his slight brusque tone, just as she does on many other occasions.

"No, nothing. I'm sure he'll contact me when he needs to."

"What was it that he said to you on the phone?" Ressler turned to Liz, but she kept her gaze on the street.

"He said when I need him, he'll be there."

Ressler looked as lost in thought. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

Silence ensued for few moments, until Ressler spoke. "Maybe Red is watching you. I mean, how would he know if you need him?"

"I don't know." Liz couldn't meet his gaze that bore at her side, for the fear that Ressler would figure out that she was not telling him the whole truth. She dared not speak to anyone about Red's comment about her husband, Tom; there was no way she's going to speak of this, to anyone.

"There's something missing. It just doesn't make sense." Ressler thought out loud, while Liz felt the growing anxiety, knowing that he will not stop pursuing until he knew all the details. She knew that somehow Ressler would find out about Red's warnings about Tom. It was just a matter of time.

"Well, one thing's for sure. It's damn cold tonight." Ressler sneered roughly, clutching his coat tighter around his chest.

"It's almost two in the morning." Liz added with her own tone of frustration.

Ressler gave her a quick look. "Is your husband alright? I mean, with you not at home?"

"He'd rather have me at home, but he's OK with it. He knows he married an FBI agent, it just comes with the territory."

Ressler did not respond to Liz, but she caught him purse his lips slightly. In the blackness of the night, it was difficult to see his face, and Liz wasn't sure what she saw flash across his face.

"Sorry, it's really none of my business. I shouldn't have asked." Ressler muttered softly, and Liz felt quite caught off guard by this unexpected apology.

"No, it's alright. I don't mind talking about my husband, not at all."

Ressler took a moment in thought before responding, "It must feel good to be in a trusting marriage." The sudden grave tone in his voice alarmed Liz, and she turned to him, only to meet his steely gaze. "I mean, without trust, what is marriage anyway?"

Liz kept her eyes on him, just as Ressler returned his attention upon the building down the street. Liz felt like air has been punched out of her lungs, rendering her completely muddled and speechless. Her mind started racing, trying to figure out the exact meaning and the nuances behind his words. What did he exactly mean? What is he saying? What does he know?

At that moment, Ressler abruptly turned to Liz, "Get out of the car now, he's here. Get your gun." And with that, both of them jumped out of the car and into the frigid blackness of the night.

. . . . . .

"Agent Keen, I'll give you a ride back to the headquarters. Agent Ressler has the suspect in his car." Agent Malik called out from her car, and Liz walked briskly towards her. The suspect has been apprehended, and Cooper had officially called off the surveillance.

"Thank you, Agent Malik." Liz got on the passenger seat, and smiled at the petite woman at the driver's seat.

"Call me Meera, please, we are now off duty, aren't we?"

"Of course." Liz let out a small laughter, perhaps for the first time that night.

They drove in silence for few moments, until Malik broke in. "So glad we caught the guy. I'd have been real pissed if all that waiting was for nothing."

"Tell me about it. Can't imagine what Ressler would've done. Probably choke some poor cat in the alleyway." Malik and Liz shared an easy laughter.

"I guess it wasn't all fun and games with Ressler in the car."

"It wasn't that bad. He's actually pretty harmless." Liz uttered softly, her thoughts returning to the conversation she had with Ressler in the car.

"He's actually the best partner you can have. You're very fortunate." Malik stated as a matter of fact.

"I know. But sometimes I do want to put my hands on his neck and choke him real hard. He can be so difficult at times, and I just want to put some sense into him."

"Yeah, well, I didn't say it's going to be easy dealing with that guy. He's just a consummate FBI man, always wanting to do it the right way. Even if that means scrutinizing everything, and trusting no one." Malik paused before continuing. "But I could tell he trusts you. He cares for you even."

"Oh, I don't know about caring for me. I don't know. I have a feeling the next time I screw up, he won't hesitate to report me." Liz winced at the memory of Ressler accusing her of not being ready to be a field agent.

"Ressler does what he does, because at the core he's looking out for you. He's trying to protect you. That's why he holds such high standards and expectations." Malik spoke as if she was privy to information unbeknownst to others. Or that Liz should never underestimate how much Malik perceives and understands.

"It's going to take some time for me to be convinced of that." Liz returned with a small shrug.

"Elizabeth, let me be frank with you. I observe many things, that's just my job. I can tell you that for all that I've seen, Ressler cares for you, and perhaps deeper than he knows." Malik turned to Liz for a brief moment, as if to gauge whether she should've said any of it at all.

Liz was left quite speechless. It was unfathomable to even think that Ressler would care for her. She was just trying to have him trust her as his partner, and if she dared to aim higher, that he'd respect her as his partner.

"Elizabeth, he gave up the code to the box, for Christ's sakes. And don't tell me it's because Reddington had a gun to his head. Ressler was going to give up the code as soon as he saw you." Throwing caution to the wind, Malik now spoke with bold assertion. They were nearing the headquarters, and Malik had just a few minutes to get this all out.

"Cooper gave him a direct order not to give up the code. And Ressler dismissed it, without even a flinch in the eye. Ressler would never dismiss superior orders, it's just not how he's been trained and what he believes. Unless it was for an absolute dire reason, or, if I can say this, something close to his heart."

"Meera, I was there. It wasn't like that." Liz finally spoke, but barely audibly.

The car has now arrived at the headquarters and passed clearance at the gate. Malik spotted Liz's car, and parked her car next to it.

Malik turned to Liz and spoke softly, "Elizabeth, I'll just leave it at that. Sorry if I spoke out of turn, I just wanted you to see it differently. But I know you're able to figure things out on your own."

"Thank you for the ride. I understand. Thank you." With that, Liz climbed out of the car.

As Liz turned on the ignition of her car, she saw Malik's car pull out of the parking structure. She sat staring at the steering wheel, as her mind has not stopped whirling at all that Malik had spoke of. She didn't know what any of it would mean to her, or if anything will change because of it. In essence, it was something she didn't even need to know. And she was sure Malik got it all wrong, completely wrong. It just couldn't be. Yet Liz couldn't comprehend why her mind felt troubled, why she suddenly couldn't breathe right, and why her heart wouldn't cease its wild beating.


End file.
